


You've got to try a little kindness

by AbbySomething



Series: Maybe This Will Be My Year [8]
Category: Samurai Jack (Cartoon)
Genre: Arson mention, Body horror (minor), Gen, Jack def should not have drunk from suspicious cups, Sick Character, and yeaaah Aku was prob And I Must Scream fate during his imprisonment, childhood flashbacks, hey everybody its time for Abby to do a bit of Aku's Fairy Tales, only with more sad, referenced character death, vivid dreaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 11:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10718253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbySomething/pseuds/AbbySomething
Summary: There were plenty of aspects about mortals, especially humans, that had long perplexed Aku, and this was one such thing he was sure he would never understand.





	You've got to try a little kindness

By the end of the third day after the rave incident, Aku was feeling ready to kill Jack again.

The samurai, it appeared, was incapable of knowing when to stop being embarrassed. Yes, it had been nice at first, feeling Jack’s shame rolling off of him at almost every instant, but at this point Jack’s avoidance of Aku, even in eye contact, had grown tiresome. 

Suffice to say, things between them were _awkward_.

At least it was quiet along the path they strode upon now, the trees still dropping their dead blooms as the spring began to fade and summer crawled in. The heat would be a nice change, especially in this part of his world.

“I— “

“You have apologized enough!” Aku finally snapped.

Jack flinched, face twitching. He coughed.

“I was going to say,” he persisted, “I think we should find a spot to camp soon. The sun will be setting soon.”

Aku glanced up; it was true. 

“ _My_ point still stands, samurai,” Aku stated, glancing sideways at Jack, “It happened, and the world keeps turning. As the youth of this planet would say: ‘Get over it.’”

Jack very nearly protested, opening his mouth, but quickly shut it again. How strange it was, though! The demon of deception, speaking the truth. 

He sighed, and nodded curtly, clearing his throat. It seemed to have a slight tickle in the back. 

“You are right, and it will not happen again any time soon.”  


“I am sorry, what was that about Aku and being right?” Aku grinned maliciously and leaned in, cupping his ear, “I do not believe I heard you. Repeat that, louder this time, samurai?”

Jack, annoyed but feeling playful due to his relief, nudged Aku away by the shoulder.

There was, admittedly, one thing that still nagged at Aku’s curiosity, and he questioned before he thought about it: 

“What _was_ with the…holding me?”

Jack coughed awkwardly into his hand, eyes shifting away. He’d rather hoped they could avoid bringing that up.

“Well, er,” he avoided looking at Aku, “It is just that…I have always found a kind of comfort in…physical affection?”

“You have not displayed this trait before.”

“I…” Jack could feel Aku’s inquiry piercing into his heart, “I have not truly had a chance to…express it, in all these years.”

He turned to give Aku a smirk before finishing, “I have been on the run for my life, you know.”

Aku rolled his eyes and snorted derisively, turning his attention back to the path in front of them. Jack found the whole thing to be…amusing. 

It was strange, this sense of irritating companionship growing in Jack’s heart, especially since there was no telling when or how Aku would turn back into a demon. 

_‘That is’_ , some thoughts whispered, _‘ **If** he turns back into a demon.’_

Jack found himself torn right then. For the most part he was satisfied with Aku’s current fate, seeing how the world would certainly be a better place without Aku being able to cause more pain and suffering than he already had. Yet some tiny part of him remembered how pained Aku had sounded and looked when he confessed his fears of mortality. Realistically, Jack couldn’t imagine how that would feel, at least from Aku’s perspective, despite his own experiences with being infected with Aku’s essence. Even after having changed back to be human, it had all been familiar to him; but Aku was an outsider to humanity, in more ways than simply being immortal.

In a very bizarre sense, and in spite of his better judgement, Jack couldn’t help but feel the absolutely smallest hint of wanting to…correct this. He knew this was _Aku_ he was thinking of, but still. He swallowed as the tickle in his throat persisted.

Something in the ex-demon had began to…not really change, but adjust; almost humble him to this whole situation. It was what Jack had wanted, of course, as he had made it a part of their agreement all those months ago. Perhaps that was the part Jack had begun to want to do right by, even if these feelings were an unforeseen consequence.

It was all so very _odd_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to regret any of his (non-drunken) decisions. Yet.

—————

_Everything was ablaze._

_His mother’s hand was the only reassurance at that moment, because everything else he knew and loved was on fire. His home was a mix of yellow and red, blending together and swirling all around. It might have been beautiful, in another context._

_There were people running everywhere; some of them he recognized from his days outside the palace walls, but their faces were twisted into horror and he wouldn’t have known it was them without the feeling surrounding their memories._

_The world tilted, and suddenly his mother’s hand was gone with a cry, and he was so small and alone._

_The fire danced closer, encircling him as he fell to the ground, helplessness overtaking him. Smoke filled his nose, and he felt sick at the smell because it wasn’t just the wood burning. He wanted to shut his eyes but they felt like they’d been glued open, and he couldn’t stop watching it all burn to the ground._

_The worst part, however, were the screams. The screams of all those he should have protected, he should have helped, he should have—_

_And that’s when the laughter started, roaring over him and he knew it was behind all those cries for help and he couldn’t do anything but sit there and be useless and it was too much and it was all fire and—_

Jack awoke with a yell, bolting straight up and into a defensive pose.

“Hmn?” the ex-demon next to him made an inquiring noise, one hand reaching up and half-heartedly forming a fist.

Jack was shaking so hard he wasn’t sure he could stay upright. That had been a particularly vivid dream. He felt so cold, and one hand reached up to rest against his forehead only to pull away quickly, covered in sweat. His hand was shaking; or perhaps he was?

“What? What is it?” Aku started to pull himself up, but stopped on his elbows when Jack threw him a _look_.

Aku jumped a little, because he hadn’t seen that face in a while. Jack began to adjust back to reality and realized he was scowling at someone that was now basically harmless to him, and was no longer quite the monster that caused his nightmares.

Before Jack could respond, he broke into a coughing fit, every breath feeling like sandpaper in his throat. He felt like he had just been through a particularly tough fight; his entire body ached and protested. What was going on?

“I—“ he managed, voice rough and weak, before he took another round of deep coughs. He sank to the ground again, weight no longer supported on his shaking legs.

Aku narrowed his eyes, trying to make out what he could of Jack’s condition in the slim moonlight. Finally, he saw the sheen of sweat covering Jack; the way he was trembling; how deep and sticky his coughs were; and he reeled back, scrambling away.

“You, you—!” Aku stammered, pointing in accusation, “You are sick!”

“What?” Jack croaked, blinking blearily at Aku, “That is—”

He trembled, his entire body feeling weak and weary before he fell backwards, laying flat on the ground again. Jack groaned, giving in to the idea.

“I may be…incapacitated at this very moment.” Jack murmured, smiling gently.

Aku glowered at him.

* * *

After a little while, they both managed to find a secluded canopy of trees in an elliptical shape with the remains of a crumpled dwelling and stone fireplace in the middle. There, Jack’s energy gave out again, and he was quick to lay down in front of the firepit.

Aku sneered at him, setting his pack down before glancing around. They were hidden by the trees, and far enough from the main path that it would not be a trek to get back but no one traveling along it would see them without wandering. That lowered the risk of encountering bandits or other distasteful beings while Jack was…busy being disgusting.

He started a fire in the pit while the sun was still up, even if he felt warm enough, and was happy to note that he got it to start in just under ten attempts. A new record! He was almost tempted to try again in the dry brush around them to see if his skill persisted, but did not want to tempt Fate with the idea of the forest fire.

Aku steadily fed the fire as it grew, watching the flames arc up higher while feeling a strange sense of familiarity and loss. So many things he used to simply _know_ , and never had to worry about the _how_ or _why_.

But he was progressing. Even if every new thing he learned was a grueling process, the end results were all satisfying and helped keep his morale up. Every bit of knowledge he gained was another advantage, and that alone added the metaphorical fuel to the fire of his ego. He certainly didn’t feel any amount of gratitude for these lessons; that would be admitting his own faults, rather than letting them sit implicitly.

Emotions were still a puzzle to him, and that was perhaps the most frustrating aspect of his humanity because they were mixed in with _every_ single little thing he did. It was the one thing he dared not ask the samurai about. Any hint of weakness on his part that might be shared with the fool spelt misfortune and a loss of Aku’s majestic and perfect façade. He had already lost so much by this fate alone.

Control over them was one thing; he was confident he had plenty of that if he ever chose to execute it; but identifying and dealing each and every one of them was a daunting and damn near impossible task on his own. How did humans survive so long with so many little…things constantly going off in their heads and even affecting their bodies? Sometimes they caused his heart to ache, or his legs to wobble, or his whole body to break out in sweat…

_—Under the dulled, buzzing street lamp, Jack looking at him with dark eyes—_

Something in Aku’s chest twisted, but he shoved the memory back into the pile of things he Did Not Want To Deal With, and once more focused on his own misery.

 _Mortality_ was horrible.

All of it still made him just the slightest bit curious how the samurai managed it, seeing as he had always been human. Not that he ever wanted an answer, or that he cared in the slightest (he was _sure_ of that), but it occasionally nagged at him when those awful emotions riled up. He understood it had something to do with the breathing trick Jack used, as well as years of being raised with the hopes of all his people upon him; a hope that hinged upon Aku’s death.

He clenched his fingers into his coat tighter and convinced himself to not glare directly at Jack this time. Instead, he continued to stare intently at the flames, letting their constant motion ease his temper.

The answers to his questions would come with time, or at least he would turn back before too long, he hoped.

In the meantime, he had to once again ensure the health and safety of his best ticket out of this curse for what he dearly wanted to be the last time.

* * *

Jack awoke sometime later, with a short burst of coughs, and after an evident struggle he managed to boost himself up on his elbows. The sky and area around them were dark, save for the bright glow of the fire in front of him. Jack had gotten used to the idea of letting the fire burn late now, seeing as he wasn’t “officially” on the run from Aku anymore, but the two of them had agreed it was best to not let it go for too long into the night for fear of the other things that could be after them.

Aku, just a foot to his right around the firepit, looked up to briefly to fix Jack with a dismissive stare.

“Oh _good_ , you’re alive.”

Jack didn’t have the energy to respond vocally or physically to that, so he focused on trying to continue to stay sitting up and to not hack out his entire throat.

“Tomorrow I will travel back to that store along the road and get some soup supplies,” Aku stated, poking at the fire with a non-kindled twig, “In the meantime, you must stay warm, and drink a lot of water. There’s other methods we could try later, but those are the options you have for now.”

He pointed to the well-used canteen just beyond Jack’s body, sneering, “Drink the rest. I will no longer touch it once you have touched your diseased lips to it, and will find one of my own…elsewhere.”

Jack managed a rather weak glare, but took the canteen and drank in long gulps from it. It was only about half full from the last time it had been refilled, but it was enough to help with the thickness in his throat for a short while. And then, for an unknown reason Jack spoke, though his mind weighed down with weariness, and the barrier between his thoughts and tongue broke for a few precious seconds.

“When I would get sick,” Jack mumbled, half to himself, “My mother would tell me stories. They always helped me…feel…” He coughed despite the help from the water, and now it came out as a wet, sickly sound. Immediately he felt as if he had given away too much of himself; like it was some great secret of his. As if Aku could take those memories from him just by knowing about them, although the idea was ridiculous with Aku being in the state that he was.

“Hm? Stories?” Aku inquired, cocking his head at Jack before putting a hand to his chin to thoughtfully stroke the hair there, “I have not heard of this method of recovery, and it holds no logical reasoning. But very well, samurai, you have piqued my interest, as I have been told I am an impressive word-weaver. Perhaps I shall tell you stories, and you will not feel so sick anymore.”

He cleared his throat and began, a little pronounced:

“Long ago in a distant land, I, Aku, the shapeshifting master of darkness, unleashed an _unspeakable_ evil! But, a foolish samurai warrior wielding a _magic_ _sword_ stepped forth to—”

“Aku!” Jack interrupted, blinking angrily at him, “I know this story. I was there!”

“Hm? Oh, right, yes you were,” Aku tapped a finger against his lips, smirking knowingly. Jack tried to glare, but it was hard to concentrate through the fog.

“Very well then, another story for the picky samurai fool. A story about…Jackpunzel.”

Jack chose to lay back down, as he already felt exhausted, and closed his eyes. He rolled them under his eyelids as to not insult Aku directly but to still feel like he was giving him his opinion anyway.

“ _Once upon a time_ , there lived a bratty child who lived in a tall tower in the middle of the woods. He had been put there because he hated everyone and he was very selfish, and nobody could live up to his demands. And he liked it up there, all alone in his tower, because nobody bothered him and he could do whatever he wanted up there. And as time went on, his hair grew and grew and grew, until it could wind around the tower and back up.

In order to get food, a person from the nearest village was picked each week to go and deliver food to him. And they’d go up to the tower, very scared, with their cart full of food, and call up: ‘Jackpunzel! Jackpunzel! Let down your hair!’ and Jackpunzel would scream out: ‘ _What do you want?!_ ’”

Aku actually shouted this part, to which Jack twitched an eyebrow.

“And the villager would tell him they had his food, and Jackpunzel would let down his long, thick hair, and they’d wind the food into the hair so Jackpunzel could pull it all up and then eat the food that had been wound in there. Now, Jackpunzel was very messy, so his hair began to get more and more dirty and gross over the years, until just the sight of it caused the villagers to gag. Jackpunzel also began to get greedy, and demanded more and more food or else he would come down from his tower and boss the whole village around. The village began to run out of food to feed their children, even their beloved beef jerky!

A wandering hero, Akio, heard of this plight of the villagers, and swore to help them. He arrived in their town and said, ‘Good people! I have heard of your plight! I will help you!” and they cheered, for he was the hero they had been waiting for. Akio had a plan, and it was a good plan, because he was the hero, and thus being smart, clever, and good-looking to boot were all strong traits of his. The next week, he came to the tower and called up: ‘Jackpunzel, Jackpunzel, let down your hair!’ and Jackpunzel was getting impatient so he just threw his hair down without asking who it was, and Aku bravely grabbed onto the strands and allowed himself to be pulled up into the tower.

When Jackpunzel saw that he had been tricked, he grew angry and attempted to fight Akio. But he did not count on Akio’s incredible combat skills! With a single punch, he put Jackpunzel down on the ground. Akio’s punch also did something miraculous: it punched the cruelty right out of Jackpunzel, and when he awoke, he was immediately changed into a kind and stupid person. It also caused his hair to fall out and turn back into all the food he had stolen over the years. Akio and he left the tower, taking the food with them and into the village, where the people feasted happily forever. In return, they made Akio their leader and king, and he made Jackpunzel his royal fool, and they lived happily ever after.”

 

Aku waited for the praise, but heavy breathing was the only sound that greeted him. He shot a glance at Jack, and realized the samurai was fast asleep. Growling, Aku crossed his arms and laid down, trying to make himself comfortable as well.

“I am unappreciated here…”

* * *

_He was **free**. _

_He had arms, and eyes, and a mouth, and he had the power to control the universe; bend elements and objects to his will. He laughed, hearing, speaking in his own voice for the first time. He could feel life around him, in him, and he stretched his arms up towards the sky, reaching—_

_A sharp pain cut through his chest, burning and wrenching his life from him, and he screamed, knowing in that second that he was going to die if this continued. And yet it didn’t stop, didn’t ever stop, and just kept on and on…_

_His life completely stripped, he was forcibly sealed in a prison that was his own deceased body, yet his mind knew itself still deep inside. There was nothing more he wanted to do than scream, yet he could not even manage that._

Aku’s eyes shot open, and he heaved a breath, heart pounding in his chest. For a second, his hand flew to feel where it felt like the accursed organ was trying to push itself from his ribcage. He finally caught up again with reality, and came to the same conclusion that humans were horrible, and he had been cursed with a fate far worse than death.

The sun had just started to rise, peeking through the scattered trees, and Aku was glad to have woken up early again so he could get his journey back to the store done soon, and return to their camp before most of the day was out. It was vital Jack recover so he could continue to be useful to Aku.

He grabbed what was left of their wares before he took off on the hour-long trip back to the closest general store, weaving his way back along the dirt path that moved through the forest like a snake through grass. It wasn’t as difficult as climbing through a mountain, thankfully, as he had come to learn the hard way, but still would never be as easy as teleporting. Watching the samurai travel through all these similar-looking terrains from his mirror was very different than actually being forced to go through them himself.

He finally arrived after that agonizingly silent hour, and Aku was grateful to see the store was empty save for the storeowner, an elderly, bald man with a white mustache, and himself. The man paid him no mind as Aku took to browsing the shelves for what he knew the essentials would be.

Painfully aware of his budget limitations (yet another reminder of an aspect he missed terribly from his reign), he stuck to the basics. Two clean bottles of water, a packet of Vitamin C powder (orange flavored, so hopefully the samurai wouldn’t complain), a five-pack of echinacea tea (the smallest size they came in, unfortunately), and some chicken soup.

Aku’s hand hesitated over the soup. He had witnessed bits and pieces of the samurai’s time as a chicken, and since then Jack had grown quite the aversion to the meat. He likely wouldn’t appreciate or drink the soup, either, so there would be no point in wasting money on it. Aku did briefly consider getting it anyway, and then taunting Jack about it later, but still decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Even in his sickly state, Jack might recognize the taste and Aku would be forced to deal with the consequences. It wasn’t something he was willing to go through with.

He picked out the instant miso soup instead. It wouldn’t be as good as a homemade one, but Jack had no right to complain about that when Aku was being so generous as to take care of him like this. With those collected, he counted out the amount he had versus the amount he would need to spend. It looked like he had it covered and then some, but he still considered the option of simply running out the door with all the items in tow.

And why not? Jack, and by extension Aku himself, needed them more than this store owner did. It wasn’t like his store would close just from one shoplifter. He looked back at the old man, who was deeply absorbed in whatever tabloid magazine he had in his hands.

Unbidden, the memories of Jack’s latest approach to morality floated into his head, and Aku frowned deeply.

_“Try looking at it from their point of view. Think about how it would make you feel if the same were done to you.”_

It was slightly better than trying to explain the _why_ of morals, but it still didn’t affect Aku like it did to Jack, apparently. Aku held firmly to the belief that he was simply better and more important, so others’ situations didn’t matter in comparison to his own.

But…

A muscle in his stomach twitched, and he growled as he snatched all the items in hand again and resolved that he would now start keeping track of all the truly heinous things he was owed from all this nonsense of doing “what was right.” Even if following those rules was just for the sake of convenience at the moment.

He plopped the items on the counter and the man put the magazine down to smile warmly at him. It made Aku’s stomach churn further.

“Hiya! Find everything you needed today?”

Aku snorted instead of directly answering. Just then, someone else came into the store and both of them turned to observe.

“Dad, Julie and I were gunna—“ The blonde woman paused, and something in Aku’s mind tried to click as she glanced at him and stopped, shock overtaking her face. Did she recognize him? But from where? Was he in trouble?!

“You!” She said, and a great, beaming smile broke out over her face, “Oh my goodness, I never thought we’d see you again!”

She reached forward to embrace him, and Aku skirted back, still wary while his memory tried to catch up. She looked a bit downtrodden at his rejection, but then her look turned sympathetic.

“Don’t you remember me? You saved us from the El Legarto gang!”

Aku’s eyes went wide as her face finally matched up to the memory he had from that instance. He blinked owlishly, unsure of what to say or do.

“You?” the old man, the father, said, looking back and forth between them with a steadily growing incredulous expression, “You’re one of the ones that saved my family?”

“Yes Dad!” the woman grew more enthusiastic, “Him and Samurai Jack! Just like I told you!”

She gasped, putting a hand to her mouth in astonishment.

“We never got your name! This whole time I never even…I am so sorry!”

They both watched him then with expecting eyes.

Aku scrambled for a lie; something he could remember and stick to, in case rumors and tales such as this continued to spread just as they had always done for the samurai. He flinched, recalling the hatred he felt for those times, but then inspiration struck.

“Kuma,” he said in a slightly lower pitch than his normal tone, not able to stop the small smirk that graced his lips at the inside knowledge of what a play upon names this trick was. There would be very few people that would understand, which is something Aku counted on now.

Thankfully, neither of them seemed to get it or recognize his voice. The man came out from behind the counter to grasp his daughter around the shoulders and continue looking at Aku with an expression Aku couldn’t decipher.

“I owe you more than you could possibly know. My family means everything to me. If there’s anything I can do for you, or give you from my store, just let me know and it’s done!”

That threw Aku for an absolute loop. He was just going to…be willing to do or give Aku anything? Because of this perceived kindness?

It had happened to the samurai before, and was infuriating then because it meant there were those who were helping Aku’s sworn enemy. But to have this kind of generosity directed at him, out of the blue? It was…honestly quite confusing, and it brought forth a whole new mix of emotions that infuriated him.

But he would not let this opportunity go to waste. If there was one thing he certainly loved, it was making others do his work for him.

“Well…”

* * *

Less than an hour later, they were driving back to the father’s residence, one samurai in tow, though he was still quite out of it and kept almost falling into Aku in the back seat. Aku unfortunately had to keep him propped up with one hand against Jack’s shoulder, trying to keep as little contact as possible beyond that. He more than aware of how quickly and easily human diseases could kill. And to add to his misery, the father and daughter wouldn’t stop _smiling_ and talking about how _happy_ they were to help. Jack had at first tried to insist he would be fine, but then he had nearly doubled over from coughing and had given in to the idea.

Revolting. All of it.

The house and property it was on were not large, but the three residents immediately set about to clearing a space in the living room to roll out an inflatable mattress while Aku, Jack, and the women’s children waited in the kitchen.

When the thermometer in Jack’s mouth beeped, he carefully extracted it and forcefully held back another cough. His shoulder’s slumped, and he finally turned it so Aku could read it. Aku let out a breath.

“You are not running a temperature. Or at least not anymore. You may already be over the worst of it.”

When one of the women, the brown-haired one named “Julie” as he had discovered, came back in to check on the miso soup they were making on the stove, Aku perked up and motioned to the samurai.

“No need to call that doctor. He will likely be fine with the soup and another night’s rest.”

She glanced at him as she went past, appearing slightly concerned.

“If you’re sure. Dr. Brown wouldn’t mind, yanno.”

Aku waved a hand dismissively, “He will be fine. I have seen this in huma— _people_ many times before.”

She didn’t seem to have noticed his correction, but the child in front of him cocked his head to the side.

“You look like Aku.” The child commented openly, and Aku tensed.

“Bernando,” Julie said in a warning tone, “I’m sure Mr. Kuma doesn’t want to hear that. He’s helping Jack, remember?”

The boy didn’t look convinced, and Aku scrunched his face in distaste at the child. Bernando stuck his tongue out. Aku, insulted at such a display, stuck his tongue out as well in response. The boy leaned forward, pushing his tongue out further, looking determined. Aku mirrored him, furrowing his brows in anger.

The girl child pulled her thumb out of her mouth to giggle loudly and excitedly, clapping her hands. Aku broke from the competition to look over at her, and then up to see Jack trying to stifle a smile behind his hand.

“It really is great what you’re both doing,” the other woman came in, picking up the girl child and carrying her over to a child’s seat on the other side of the table, “I believe that you will be able to finally beat that _monster_ , and then—”

Ah. And there it was. Aku’s mood soured, and he tried to refrain from glaring if only to keep his cover. The only reason they were being so nice was because of _Jack_ and the fact Aku hadn’t revealed his true nature. His hands gripped his knees a little tighter anyway.

“Hey, I keep tellin’ ya both, it could be a _whole_ lot worse,” the father said, wiping his hands on his pants as he came into the kitchen, “Have you heard about what happens to anyone who gets attacked and conquered by Galloras? At least Aku provides us with running water, a stable economy, and other necessary basics.”

“And I keep telling you, Capu,” the blonde said tersely, “This shouldn’t be the _standard_. What we live under shouldn’t be some…some _goal_ compared to everyone else! It’s still—”

“Roma!” Julie hissed, whipping her head around to glare between them, “Not. _Now_.”

The other two adults seemed to get a hold of themselves, and then looked a bit sheepish.

“My apologies,” Roma said, addressing Jack and Aku, “We shouldn’t discuss politics with guests around.”

Jack shook his head, then coughed heavily before speaking.

“You are fine. You have done us a kindness by housing us and providing me c-care for this.”

At that, Roma’s face softened, and she retorted “Well it is you that saved us. Just think of this as a proper thank-you.”

Aku, however, couldn’t rid himself of the bitter knowledge that this would have been very different if they had known his true identity, and it managed to dampen his mood the rest of the evening.

The next day was spent mostly indoors, with all three residents alternating spending time outside, doing things around the house, or sitting with the children and Jack and Aku in their various phases of activities. Jack had at first been the only one, already sounding better, and Aku took to wandering around the house, simply exploring it. Eventually he had come back to find that Jack was speaking much more softly and coughing more frequently, so he took over to help Jack preserve his voice. The children were at first remiss, but then as Aku told stories he recalled of his and Jack’s adventures, both before and now after his change, with Jack occasionally intervening to “correct” a detail or two, the children’s interests piqued again and they were easily captivated. Around midday and after lunch, both children brought them toys and games from their rooms to share and talk about, and Aku connected with Bernando over his Pouch Creatures collection. Aku, admittedly, had collected every piece for a collection his own in the citadel (merely in an effort to fully understand their popularity, of course), but he had found he had a certain fondness for a few of the strange monsters, so he and Bernando passed several hours deep in discussion about the franchise.

Occasionally he glanced sideways at Jack and “Maria” as the girl child was called, and saw that Maria was trying to teach Jack how to draw dragons. Jack went along patiently, quiet as both his nature and because of his illness, and was receptive to her critiques and chatting excitedly about how she was going to grow up to be a dragon one day.

Aku could have laughed, but the memory of being able to shapeshift himself brought a flash of pain instead.

By the time the evening came about again, Jack was looking and sounding nearly himself again, and Aku could have leapt for joy at the thought of being out of there and feeling constantly under the spotlight. He’d wondered, the whole day, on why no one else seemed to catch on to his human form’s similarities to his true form, just as Jack had almost instantly, but they also likely didn’t know him like Jack did.

The following morning Jack insisted they be on their way, as to “not burden such a lovely family any more,” and Aku subtly breathed a sigh of relief. Despite their insistence that Jack nor Aku were a burden, the two of them still had to keep moving.

Maria got a little sniffly, but Jack squatted down to her level and smiled gently while Julie patted her head.

“I greatly enjoyed you showing me how to draw a dragon, and I am sure that you will find what makes you happy too one day.” Jack said. It avoided lying by comforting her about being able to turn into a dragon, but would hopefully give her happy thoughts anyway.

Aku almost scoffed at such a disgusting display of comfort. Bernando stepped forth while that was happening, however, and held forth a worn-looking card with a dark, dog-like creature roaring at the viewer on it. Aku blinked down at him, visibly startled.

“Nightenine helped me beat Riff Jet at lunch last week,” Bernando explained, lifting his chin up proudly, “He wants to go with you now, to help you.”

When Aku didn’t move, still confused, Bernando darted forward and shoved the card into his hand, then ran back inside the house. All eyes turned to watch him, but then Roma sighed fondly and shook her head.

“I’m sorry, I think he just really appreciates that you talked to him about his favorite thing; none of the rest of us understand it, though we’re certainly trying. He would want you to keep it, however. He’s very earnest like that.”

Aku could feel that same, unnerving feeling he’d had in the shop creeping up on him when Roma and Capu had looked at him with hopes of repaying him for his “kindness,” and he swallowed back down the shudder that threatened to race through him.

“Of…of course.” he said after a moment, and pulled around the new backpack the family had provided for them (replacing the one he’d lost in the Colosseum), gently tucking the card away in a small pocket.

He quickly realized he was still being stared at, and so, uncomfortable, Aku stepped back and forced his gaze to the road, unable to rid himself of the thing that clawed at him from his stomach now, and it was certainly not hunger.

“Let him know his Nightenine will serve its purpose.” He finished abruptly, and then nodded more to himself than to them, “Your…hospitality was noted.”

He briskly began to walk away, unwilling to stick around any longer after he had said his piece.

Jack stood, shoulders drooping a bit as he watched Aku stomp down the road, and he rotated his gaze back to see the slightly stunned looks on the family’s faces. He couldn’t help but smile a bit, understanding their confusion, even if he was the only one privy as to why Aku acted like this.

“I apologize for my companion’s behavior as well, he is…unused to such kindness. Thank you, again, and I hope safety and happiness remains upon this household.” He bowed deeply, and they each said and waved goodbye as he followed out after Aku.

* * *

They went on past the remains of the house they had stayed at earlier, but found another suitable clearing by the evening in which to sleep. It was there that Jack could no longer hold his curiosity back, so he decided to simply ask and see if he would get his answer.

“Aku, how did you come to know how to care for a human when they’re sick?”

Aku stared back, a little stricken, but then turned to the fire, his expression changing to a strangely withdrawn one.

“I have simply…heard about it. Nothing more.”

Jack’s lip curled into a fraction of a frown.

“If you are going to _lie_ , at least make it less obvious.”

Aku pursed his lips, drawing his legs in tighter, then spat out: “Do not get any ideas about feeling pity for you or your species. You are still serviceable to Aku.”

Jack let out the tension he was holding in his face, and turned his head away, letting the topic drop. At least he had asked, and gotten it off his mind.

Aku, on the other hand, was still stewing on the thoughts he had not expressed, because telling Jack the truth would have compromised so many things he had worked so hard for, and it was not just his reputation this time.

Well over a year or so ago, Aku had come down with _something_ that made his form unstable and drip from him in messy pieces. He had also sounded like his nose had been stuffed, and he had a terrible hacking cough not unlike what the samurai had dealt with. He’d risked his luck by trying to combat Jack in the midst of it, but had given up to fly home and look up what could have possibly been the cause.

The problem for Aku was that he had been the only being ever like himself, so knowledge was quite limited to what he himself knew or suspected. There were things he could find in himself that were similar to traits in mortals and other demons, but he had liked to believe that they were all were taking cues from him rather than the other way around. Deep down, even while in his true form, he had had his doubts.

And that was what made him initially turn to books on diseases, and try to match his symptoms up with those that ailed humans and other mortal creatures alike. He’d narrowed it down to a few things— the common cold, the flu, or pneumonia— and had tried to treat himself accordingly. But his worst fears had been confirmed when none of them worked, and instead he had felt the slow, agonizing reality come crawling into his brain from the depths where it had previously rested many eons ago.

The truth was that Jack had been _winning._ Every time Aku came in contact with the blade, it stripped more of his magic away than he could recover in between their encounters. Oh certainly, he did recover slowly, but as time went on he grew more and more desperate to rid himself of this plague to his immortality, and it had only wound up costing him more of his magic each and every time.

Perhaps not the brightest choice, but much like a wolf when it was being backed into a corner he had started to become _very_ desperate. Or, well, as desperate as he could safely manage with the minimal amount of risk of the samurai striking him. Realistically, he had never shown the samurai his full capabilities, or unleashed the true hell he could have, because of his fear of the blade. The closest he had come was in the graveyard, when the sword was out of the samurai’s reach.

He knew the sword was merely a tool; a very awful, loathsome tool, but a tool nonetheless. The true skill of it came from the _wielder_ and their ability to match Aku blow-for-blow, but he’d have rather have been turned into a _worm_ right then and there rather than ever admitting such a notion.

And that had been the reason why he felt he needed to take more drastic measures. To capitalize upon the very thing his foe searched for, and turn it against him. Aku hadn’t needed his ability to see visions of the future to know that if he had not acted quickly the samurai might have managed to accomplish the goal he had set out to do. Aku wanted to believe that he could not be destroyed, and that sealing him away (allowing him time to grow his supply of magic to a stable condition) was the best the sword could manage. But he didn’t _know_. And even then, it was not a preferable fate, and he shuddered at the memories.

His actions to ensure he never found out if his theories were true were what had landed him in this spot.

It wasn’t _fair._ The samurai would have been allowed to kill him in the present or past, but the moment Aku tried to actually throw the odds in his favor he was forced from his high perch and into the bindings of mortality.

His mood effectively destroyed for the evening and possibly forever, Aku then scowled and prodded at the fire angrily with a spare stick.

“How about this for your story this evening: once upon a time there was an all-powerful sorcerer, who was the rightful ruler of the pathetic planet he was thrown upon, even if some of the pitiable persons living there didn’t believe so. And then one day he woke up as a mortal, as if everything before had just been a dream, and he had to travel and learn to be mortal with the one being who he hated more than anything and he never knew happiness again. The end!”

Aku kicked dust at the fire at the last part, but it merely sputtered. He flung the stick into it, cursing, then rolled onto his side and faced away from Jack.

“Goodnight! Story time is over.”

Jack wrinkled his nose, showing his displeasure even if Aku couldn’t see it. Not only was that, well, inaccurate, but now he knew something was bothering Aku. He understood that it was difficult for Aku to put a name to many of the things he could be feeling at any given moment, so he always had to be careful if he chose to question into these or try to help Aku work through them. Not that it wound up helping half the time; Aku was often adamant that Jack could “mind [his] own damn business.”

“Aku.”

“I do not want to talk anymore!”

Jack closed his eyes, gathering the will to say what he knew needed to be said.

“Aku, I cannot guarantee that I will withhold judgement of what you are feeling or thinking because of our past. To, to assume you could do the same for me would be… foolish. But you do not _know_ how long you will be trapped in human form, so I am telling you now: ask me while you _can_.”

For a long while afterwards, it was quiet. Jack watched the fire the whole time, even after it burnt itself to cinders. When it grew dark all around them, Jack sighed and laid down, trying to ease himself into slumber.

“Why…” Aku’s voice was barely above a whisper, “Why did those humans… why did they do all that?”

Jack took a minute to think about how to answer this, then rolled to his side to face Aku’s back.

“They were grateful. Often times, we find ourselves compelled to repay a debt we feel is owed, whether to the debtor or a stranger in the future. It is a notion of…giving kindness in exchange for kindness, though the severity or types may differ depending on many factors.”

Aku was silent again, then grated out, “They would not have done that if they knew who I am. No one would.”

Jack’s eyes widened a tiny bit, but then he thought more deeply on it.

“More than likely, yes,” he admitted carefully, “But you still saved their lives. They would not so easily forget that.”

“And yet no one was grateful when I did not automatically enslave or kill everyone, just like the father pointed out!” Aku protested, rolling onto his back and gesturing angrily with his hands, “Do you know how much _easier_ it would have been to do that? To have simply forced everyone to work for free, and ration things like water and food and facilities? It took years of work on my part just to get everything somewhat stable and provide the basics, and I was still working on it when you arrived! No one has ever so much as thanked me!”

Jack had never even considered how much it would take to run a planet, let alone several. He had barely even ever thought about what he would do when he eventually took his father’s place back home, and that wasn’t even in this time period.

But Aku was still _wrong_ , in some way or another, Jack was sure of that. He furrowed his brow as he thought about it.

“And yet, you still admitted to taking delight from their misery, and imprisoned, tortured, or even killed so many,” Jack pointed out, “I do not think it matters how much of the ‘basics’ you allow, Aku. If people live in fear, rather than respect, they will never be happy.”

Aku gawked at Jack, but then he grew contemplative before his face became an angry storm and he rolled to face away from Jack again.

“You would all hate me no matter what I did,” he spat out, hating the way his voice grew thicker as the words tried to clog in his throat, “It is what you and your species and _everyone_ have always done.”

Jack stared at Aku’s back for another few minutes, lost in thought. Finally, he rolled to his opposite side and away from Aku, but he spoke one last time, more subdued now.

“Perhaps, but things can change, given the right circumstances. Even emotions.”

Aku clenched his hands into the dirt, the words striking him nearly as painfully as the sword. He trembled, the effort of having to force his words out leaving him shaken, but as he lay there he ran over the conversation again in his mind.

_Even emotions._

He thought of the card the child had so willingly given him; a token of a battle, hard fought, and a good luck charm, now passing owners in a gesture of camaraderie and…kindness. The family as a whole, making clear they wanted to help and extending that alien feeling back to him and Jack.

Jack, willing to help him learn to be human.

All of it together made Aku fear the weakness this feeling seemed to bring, but this time was far more powerful and warm in a way that wrenched at his gut like a punch. He held it in his chest, even though it kept trying to bubble up his throat, and in the dark and quiet that night, he closed his eyes and let himself _feel_ it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the “weirder” chapters, as it’s somewhat eclectic in the overall happenings but they all serve important purposes that string in together. So, my apologies if you were in any way, shape, or form confused by the goings-on in this one. Just think of it kinda like a late-seasoned Simpsons episode. Haw-haw.
> 
> And the song these lyrics are from do nooooot fit the mood of this chapter, but w/e. 
> 
> i give my thanks to my awesome betas, [Cobalt the Fox](https://cobalt-draws.tumblr.com/) and [Ka Won!!](http://iwalkandtalk.tumblr.com/)


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